


because it's you

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:00:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: Jack wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting to tell Bittle how much he loves him every five minutes. He hopes not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weisbrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weisbrot/gifts).



> For my darling weisbrot (even though this is so not what you wanted. I hope you still like it.)

Everything about Bittle looks soft in the morning light.

Jack can’t decide where to look first, can’t even wrap his head around the fact that he is _allowed_ to look. Back at the Haus he told himself that he needed to direct his eyes elsewhere whenever Bittle was in close proximity, because what if someone noticed how much he loved looking at Eric Bittle? What if _Bittle_ noticed?

Consequently, Jack spent a lot of time looking at walls and floors.

Although every now and again he allowed himself to look. Every now and again he had to look, because he didn’t want to be rude to Bittle, he just didn’t want to stare. Because Bittle is so easy to stare at.

Bittle shifts, rolls onto his back, his hand still on the pillow between them, his fingers curled a little.

 

_Jack kisses Bittle’s fingertips, because they’re splayed against Jack’s cheek, because they’re right there, because Jack loves the way Bittle’s cheeks turn pink when he does it._

_“Jack,” Bittle says._

_Jack kisses the palm of his hand._

_“Jack, honey…”_

_He kisses the inside of his wrist, too._

_Bittle squirms underneath him, his eyes so dark and so, so wide._

_They have been ever since Jack and Bittle stumbled into Jack’s bedroom, tugging at each other’s clothes, ever since Jack pushed Bittle down on his bed, still in their clothes, both of them disheveled and flushed, Bittle’s breath hot against Jack’s skin. Ever since Bittle stilled against him and said, “Jack, I want to… what we talked about yesterday… I want to, tonight, do you…?”_

_Jack has thought about this a lot, has thought about how it might go, has thought about how he’s going to make this perfect for Bittle, and he knows that Bittle doesn’t have expectations, but Jack is so nervous. He’s nervous because it’s been so long for him, it’s been so long since he’s been close to someone like this, and it means so much today, because Bittle means so much to him._

_“Jack,” Bittle says again, snapping him back to the here and now. “I know we said we’d take it slow, but…”_

_“It’s your first time, I want it to be good for you.”_

_“It is good, it’s very good,” Bittle says. His fingers slip under Jack’s shirt. “I’m good.”_

_Jack lets Bittle tug off his shirts and laughs when it won’t go over his head at first. Once it’s gone, Jack leans down to kiss Bittle, teeth scraping against his lips, and Bittle’s breath hitches and Jack just loves the noises he’s making, those quiet little sounds, so he does it again and this time Bittle moans, still quiet, almost surprised._

_He’s still figuring Bittle out in some ways. This isn’t the first time they’re tugging each other out of their clothes, this isn’t the first time Jack has his hands on Bittle, but there are a lot of other firsts to be considered tonight._

_Jack gets a hand under Bittle’s back and tugs, rolling them over so Bittle is on top of him._

_Bittle splutters and his fingers scrabble at Jack’s chest. “What–”_

_“May I?” Jack asks and tugs at the hem of Bittle’s shirt._

_Bittle nods and his shirt joins Jack’s on the floor a moment later. Their pants go next and it takes a bit of shifting and wiggling and more breathless laughter. Whatever clothes are left follow suit. Bittle stares down at Jack, his cheeks flushed, his hair sticking up. Jack smiles at him, smiles when Bittle leans down, smiles when he kisses him, smiles when he slides off him, still kissing him, smiles when their legs tangle._

_He wraps an arm around Bittle and pulls him close, stops kissing him for a moment to look at him, to trail his thumb over Bittle’s lower lip, red and bitten, and Bittle kisses the pad of his thumb and his face goes even redder._

Jack glances at the mess on the floor, clothes scattered randomly, all of them carelessly discarded – Bittle’s shirt, pooled next to the bed on top of Jack’s, one of Jack’s socks, on the floor at the other end of the room, the other one nowhere to be found. Jack has no idea what happened to his pants after Bittle shoved them off the bed.

He tugs at the sheets and pulls them up a little so Bittle won’t get cold.

Bittle doesn’t wake up; he’s not the one who gets up at the same time every morning and wakes up like clockwork no matter what. Jack has a routine. Not today, though. Today he isn’t going for a run, he’s not checking his phone; today he’s staying right where he is. He scoots closer to Bittle, close enough so he can feel his warmth, and closes his eyes.

Jack feels like he’s exactly where he belongs. Despite the mistakes, he made some good choices, and they led him here. They led him to a place where he gets to have this. Where he gets to have Bittle in his life.

This feels right.

 

_“You okay, Bits?”_

_Bittle breathes in, his eyes never leaving Jack’s, and breathes out, his hands very still on Jack’s sides. “I’m a bit nervous.”_

_“Me too,” Jack says, but it’s more of a nervous kind of excitement and the second those words rush out of him, the second he admits it, it doesn’t seem like a bad thing anymore._

_The flutter in the pit of his stomach isn’t fear. He’s happy, he’s so, so happy, happier than he’s ever been, he’s sure, and he wants Bittle to be happy too, he wants to do right by him. He wants everything with Bittle._

_“Bittle,” Jack says. He kisses the line of Bittle’s jaw, feels Bittle’s fingers dig into his skin. “Bitty. We don’t… If you want to stop, all you have to do is say so.”_

_Bittle breathes out a low, “I know.”_

_They’ve had this conversation. Twice._

_“I want to,” Bittle says. “And as long as you also still want to–”_

_“I do,” Jack says._

_Bittle pulls him down into a kiss and it’s gentle and unhurried and something unfurls inside of Jack. He’s been thinking too much. And there’s nothing wrong with thinking things through but right now that kiss is the only thing that matters, Bittle’s fingers in his hair is what matters, Bittle’s other hand settling on the small of Jack’s back is what matters._

_He sighs against Bittle’s lips, gives him one more kiss, then he makes his way down his neck, kisses the sharp line of Bittle’s collarbones, down again, smiling against Bittle’s skin when he feels him shiver._

_Maybe they don’t have to go as slow as Jack was taking it earlier, but he’s not doing anything else until he’s kissed every inch of Bittle’s skin._

Jack startles when Bittle bumps into him. He must have fallen asleep again. Bittle’s still asleep too, except now he’s curled against Jack. Jack puts an arm around him and pushes his nose into Bittle’s hair.

Bittle makes a sleepy noise, a quiet _hmm_ , and his fingers twitch against Jack’s chest.

 

_Bittle’s fingers are clenched in the sheets, his eyelids fluttering, his lips parted as he breathes out a startled, “Oh…”_

_When Jack set out to kiss every inch of Bittle’s skin, he did mean_ every _inch._

“Jack,” Bittle says, his voice low, rough from sleep.

“Yeah?” Jack says.

“Hm,” is Bittle’s reply. He loops an arm around Jack’s waist, burrows closer, and goes right back to sleep.

_“Go on,” Bittle says. “I’m ready, I promise.” He’s watching Jack through half-lidded eyes and he’s so beautiful that it takes Jack’s breath away._

_He loves Bittle, he loves him so much, but right now_ I love you _doesn’t even begin to describe what he’s feeling. It can’t describe how much better Bittle makes his life, it’s not enough. “Bits,” he says and rests his forehead against Bittle’s, the tips of their noses touching._

_“Jack,” Bittle whispers and tilts his head to kiss him. “I trust you. Go on.”_

Bittle noses along his skin, humming contently, his fingers splayed on Jack’s back.

“You awake?” Jack asks. Bittle is prone to sleepy nuzzling, he knows that, and it makes him unbelievably happy that he does and that Bittle wants to know him, too.

Bittle pulls back. “Yeah,” he says. He looks tired and rumpled, sleep in his eyes. And still so beautiful. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jack says.

Bittle gives him a quick kiss. “ _Hi_.”

Jack kisses Bittle’s forehead in return. “Hi,” he whispers. Then he kisses his cheek, then the tip of his nose. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” Bittle says and a small smile flits over his face.

“Breakfast?” Jack asks.

“Not yet,” Bittle mutters. He rolls onto his back with a groan. “I don’t wanna get up, it’s too early.”

Jack sits up, the sheets slipping. “I can take care of it. I’ve learned how to make pancakes from the best.”

“Ah…” Bittle’s fingers curl around his arm to stop him, pulling him back down. “But I don’t want you to get up either.”

Jack doesn’t argue, doesn’t even want to. Bittle yawns and his eyes flutter shut. Jack wants to kiss him, the freckles on his shoulders, the crook of his neck, the corner of his mouth where his lips quirk into a smile.

Bittle reaches out, fingers wandering down Jack’s chest. He cracks an eye open. “Come here?”

Jack doesn’t even need to be asked. He scoots into the middle of the bed and curls around Bittle. He loves how Bittle fits against him so easily, like he belongs there, like he was never meant to be anywhere else.

Jack has never felt like this about anybody else and he wants this so much, wants to wake up next to Bittle and see his eyes flutter open, he wants to hold him and trade a few sleepy kisses before they get up. He also wants the awkward conversations about things they both don’t know how to talk about, the conversations they stumble through with drawn-out pauses as they struggle to find the right words. They’re still learning. It’s part of this. Jack wants all of it.

“This is nice,” Jack mumbles into Bittle’s hair. It might be a bit of an understatement, but Bittle will understand what he means. That he’s happy. And content. And that there’s no other place in the world where he’d rather be right now.

“It is.” And the way Bittle says it makes something in Jack go very warm and soft. Bittle’s hand slowly slides down his back, just the ghost of a touch. “It really is.”

_Bittle’s hands are everywhere and Jack has trouble keeping up and Bittle’s mouth is actually going to be the death of him, and if not that, it’ll be Bittle’s legs, firmly hooked around him, keeping him close, and if not that, it’ll be the fingers tugging at his hair._

_“Jack,” Bittle says, breathless, just a gasp, hot against Jack’s skin. “_ Jack _…”_

_Jack has never enjoyed the sound of his own name as much as he does right now._

_He finds Bittle’s hands, squeezes them both and pushes them against the mattress. Bittle’s mouth falls open in a quiet moan and Jack leans down to capture his lips in a messy kiss._

Bittle doesn’t untangle himself from Jack until his stomach gives an unmistakable growl. He stretches and Jack almost wants to reach out and trail his fingers down Bittle’s stomach, over soft skin, wants to slip them under the sheets that are tangled around Bittle’s waist.

“I need a shower,” Bittle says. “We could… do that… together. And then I’ll make breakfast.”

“I thought I was making breakfast?”

“You’re allowed to help.”

“It’s good to know that I’m still allowed to cook in my own kitchen,” Jack says teasingly.

“I didn’t say you were allowed to do any cooking,” Bittle says. “I said you could help.”

Jack wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting to tell Bittle how much he loves him every five minutes. He hopes not. “Fine,” he says, “I’ll be as helpful as I can in whatever way you see fit.” He sits up and gives Bittle a nudge. “So, about that shower?”

Bittle, still not looking properly awake, flops onto his stomach. “In a minute.”

“Okay,” Jack says. This time he does reach out, trails his knuckles along Bittle’s spine and Bittle makes a pleased noise. Jack bends down to plant a kiss on Bittle’s shoulder blade.

“Jack…” Bittle turns over again, looking up at Jack. His cheeks go that beautiful shade of pink again. “Last night was perfect, it really was.”

Jack loves this boy so much.

“Y’know,” Bittle goes on, “it would have been no matter what. Because it was with you. I…” He reaches out to run his fingers through Jack’s hair. “I’m glad it was with you.”

 

_Bittle pets Jack’s hair as they’re both trying to catch their breath._

_Jack still has an arm and a leg wrapped around Bittle, because he doesn’t want to move away yet, wants to be close to Bittle for a moment longer. Jack whispers an, “I love you,” into Bittle’s ear, because he can’t possibly not say it, because it’s true, it’s the truest thing he can say right now._

_Bittle whispers an, “I love you,” back and kisses a stray tear off Jack’s cheek._

Yes, it really was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)
> 
> (I'm @zimmermaenner on tumblr if you wanna say hi)


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